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THE  LITERARY  FOUJS'TAIJS'S  HEALED 


SERMON, 


PREACHED 


IN  THE  CHAPEL  OF  THE 


COLLEGE  OF  NEW-JERSEY, 


March  9th,  1823. 


BY  SAMUEL  MILLER,  D.  D. 

PHOFESSOB  IN  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMISAHI  AT  PBIHCETOJT. 


TRENTON: 
PRINTED  BY  GEORGE  SHERMAX. 

1823. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  circumstances  which  led  to  the  preparation 
and  delivery  of  the  following  Discourse,  were  these. 
A  circular  communication  having  been  received,  by  an 
individual  in  Princeton,  from  a  distant  and  highly  re- 
spected Brother,  announcing  that  a  number  of  per- 
sons, in  different  parts  of  the  United  States,  had 
agreed  to  set  apart  Thursday  the  27th  of  February, 
last,  as  a  day  of  special  Prayer  and  Fasting,  for  the 
particular  purpose  of  imploring  a  Revival  of  Religion 
in  the  Colleges  of  our  Country: — the  Faculty  and  a 
large  number  of  the  Students  of  Xassau-Hall,  together 
with  the  Professors  and  Students  of  the  Theological 
Seminary  in  Princeton,  promptly  resolved  to  unite  in 
the  observance.  The  day  was  observed  accordingly. 
As  a  variety  of  considerations  prevented  the  delivery 
of  an  appropriate  discourse  at  that  time:  and  as  the 
author  happened  to  be  the  first  of  the  preachers  stat- 
edly ministering  in  the  College-Chapel,  who  occupied 
that  pulpit,  after  the  day  alluded  to:  he  deemed  it 
proper  to  embrace  the  opportunity  afforded  him,  of 
endeavouring  to  revive  and  deepen  the  impression 
made  by  the  preceding  solemnities.  Whether  he  did 
right  in  complyiug  with  a  request  to  print  what  he 
delivered,  the  reader  must  judge.  His  prayer  is.  that 
it  may  be  useful. 

Princetox,  March  13 fh,  1823, 


THE  LITERARY  FOUJ^TAIJSTS  HEALED: 

A  SERMON. 


II.  KINGS  II.  21. 

And  he  went  forth  unto  the  spring  of  the  waters,  and 
cast  the  salt  in  there,  and  said,  Thus  saith  the  Lord, 
I  have  healed  these  waters;  there  shall  not  be  from^ 

•   thence  any  more  death. 

WHEN  we  see  a  spring  of  water  rising  from  the 
earth,  and  pouring  along  its  gentle  stream,  we  are  apt 
to  regard  it  as  a  very  unimportant  object.  And  so,  in- 
deed, considered  in  itself,  it  often  really  is.  But  when 
we  see  a  fountain  of  this  kind  in  the  midst  of  a  popu- 
lous neighbourhood;  when  we  see  many  families  de- 
pending upon  it  for  their  daily  supply  of  an  indispen- 
sable article  of  life;  when  we  find  the  young  and  the 
old,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  constantly  resorting  to  it, 
to  slake  their  thirst,  and  every  hour  bearing  away  its 
waters  for  the  use  of  their  households;  then  such  a 
spring  appears  truly  valuable;  and,  above  all,  if  it 
be  the  only  one  in  the  neighbourhood,  we  view  it  as 
important;  to  a  degree  not  easily  overrated. 


6 

What  sliould  we  think,  then,  of  a  person  so  mali- 
cious as  to  poison  such  a  spring,  or  to  counsel  and  aid 
in  poisoning  it;  and  thus  rendering  it  productive  of 
disease  and  death  to  a  whole  community — to  all  who 
should  partake  of  its  waters?  Surely  he  would  act  a 
part,  the  baseness,  the  cruelty  of  which  it  would  be 
difficult  to  express  ?  Accordingly,  all  moral  writers  of 
any  name,  have  taught,  that  it  is  highly  censurable, 
even  in  an  enemy,  to  make  war  on  the  lives  of  his  ad- 
versaries, by  poisoning  springs  and  fountains.  They 
pronounce  it,  at  once,  dishonourable  and  inhuman. 

In  the  case  of  the  Springs  in  or  near  the  city  of 
Jericho,  in  Palestine,  to  which  the  words  of  our  text 
refer,  there  is,  indeed,  no  reason  to  suppose  that  they 
had  been  poisoned  hy  design;  but  they  were  poisoned 
in  fact;  probably  in  consequence  of  that  curse  which 
had  rested  upon  the  place  from  the  time  of  Joshua, 
near  six  hundred  years  before.  Whatever  might  have 
been  the  reason,  however,  their  waters  were  bad;  un- 
wholesome; nay,  destructive  of  health,  and,  as  it  would 
seem,  of  life.  And  we  find,  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, that  this  was  considered  by  the  inhabitants  as 
a  great  calamity:  for  the  men  of  the  city  came  to  Elir 
sJia,  the  prophet,  lamenting  the  fact,  and  probably 
hoping  tliat  they  might  engage  him  to  attempt  some- 
tiling  for  their  relief.  There  was  an  important  Semi- 
nary established  m  Jericho  at  this  time;  and  some  com- 


raentators  have  been  of  the  opinion,  that,  although  a 
curse  had  been  pronounced  on  the  place  a  number  of 
centuries  before,  it  was  now  mercifully  removed,  in 
consequence  of  the  favour  and  liberality  which  the 
people  had  manifested  toward  that  Seminary.  How- 
ever this  may  have  been,  certain  it  is  that  God  was 
pleased,  by  the  prophet  Elisha,  to  send  relief  from 
this  particular  distress  under  which  they  laboured- 
For  when  they  came  to  the  Prophet,  and  made  known 
their  calamity,  he  said — ^^  Bring  me  a  new  cruise,  and 
put  salt  therein;  and  they  brought  it  to  him.  And  he 
went  forth  unto  the  spring  of  the  waters,  and  cast  the 
salt  in  there,  and  said,  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  I  have 
healed  these  waters;  there  shall  not  he  from  thence  any 
more  deathP 

I  purpose,  to-day,  my  friends,  to  accommodate  these 
words  to  the  metaphorical  Fountains  of  our  land 
— I  mean  our  Literary  Institutions — particularly 
our  Colleges. 

Some  of  you,  no  doubt,  remember,  that,  a  little  more 
than  a  week  since,  a  particular  day  was,  by  agreement, 
set  apart,  by  a  number  of  the  friends  of  learning  and 
piety,  in  different  parts  of  the  United  States,  as  a  day 
of  special  Prayer  and  Fasting,  for  the  effusion  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  the  revival  of  Religion,  in'our  Col- 
leges. A  goodly  number  of  persons  in  this  place,  at- 
tended with  seriousness,  and  I  hope  with  sincerity^  to 


8 

the  appointment. 1  wish,  now,  to  follow  up  that 

observance  with  some  remarks  and  exhortations,  which 
are  intended  to  harmonize  with  it,  and,  by  the  bless- 
ing of  God,  to  promote  the  same  great  object. 

My  design  is  to  shew — 

I.  That  our  Colleges  may,  with  propriety,  be 
called  the  Fountains  of  our  Country;  the  Foun- 
tains whence  all  its  best  interests,  under  God,  must 
flow.  And 

II.  That  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  the 

SALT  OF  GOOD  PRINCIPLES  BE  CAST  INTO  THESE  FOUN- 
TAINS ;  and  that  for  this  we  ought  all  to  labour  and 
pray  without  ceasing. 

I.  That  the  Colleges  of  our  Country,  may,  with  pro- 
priety, be  considered  as  its  Fountains — the  Foun- 
tains OF  its  intellectual,  social,  and  moral 
character — is  so  obvious,  that  I  hope  formal  proof 
of  it,  especially  before  this  audience,  is  not  necessary. 
But  it  may,  perhaps,  the  better  prepare  the  way  for 
what  is  to  follow,  if  I  spend  a  moment  or  two  in  en- 
deavouring to  illustrate  this  position. 

And  here,  it  will  not,  I  presume,  be  denied,  that 
talents  and  learning  generally  bear  sway  in  every  com- 
munity in  which  they  exist;  that  strong  minds  will 
always,  directly  or  indirectly,  govern  the  weak;  and 


9 

that  knowledge,  every  where,  is  power.  That  this  is, 
universally,  the  stated  course  of  liuman  affairs,  is  too 
plain  to  be  doubted  or  proved.  It  is  true,  there  are 
communities  in  which  we  sometimes  see  the  chief  pow- 
er in  the  hands  of  the  weak  and  the  ignorant.  But  this, 
I  take  it,  forms  no  exception  to  the  general  rule.  For 
the  immediate  depositaries  of  power,  in  such  cases,  are 
almost  always,  the  mere  puppets  of  more  able  and 
knowing  men,  who  make  them  dupes  and  ministers  to 
their  ambition,  and  often  employ  them  to  accomplish 
that  which  they  would  be  ashamed  to  perform  them- 
selves. So  that,  ^fter  all,  the  strongest  minds  really 
govern;  and  the  best  educated  seldom  fail  to  exert  an 
influence  which  is  paramount  and  acknowledged. 

Now,  is  it  not  evident,  that  the  great  majority  of  our 
able  and  educated  men,  are  the  sons  of  our  colleges; 
and  that  from  these  institutions,  of  consequence,  com- 
monly arise  those  who  bear  sway  in  society  ?  Not  that 
I  mean  to  intimate,  that  every  graduate  of  a  college  is 
destined,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  be  a  light  and  a 
leader  in  the  community.  Far  from  it.  Many  a  diplo- 
maed blockhead,  who  never  had  the  capacity  to  learn, 
and  who,  of  course,  never  could  be  taught,  has  gone 
forth,  as  if  only  to  evince  how  much  time,  and  pains, 
and  money  may  be  thrown  away,  in  rendering  one, 
who  would  have  been  a  dunce  at  all  events,  a  more 
conspicuous  and  contemptible  dunce.  And  many  more, 

B 


10 

to  the  credit  of  society  be  it  spoken,  who  were  by  no 
means  deficient  either  in  talents  or  acquirements,  with 
all  their  boasted  collegiate  honours,  have  been  con- 
signed by  a  discerning  publick,  on  account  of  their 
perverse  tempers,  or  their  gross  vices,  to  lives  of  ne- 
glect and  obscurity:  thus  proclaiming  the  instructive 
lesson,  that  mere  genius  or  learning,  even  in  their 
highest  degrees,  will  ensure  the  elevation  of  no  man. 
But  my  meaning  is,  that  we  are,  in  general,  to  look 
among  the  Sons  of  our  Universities  and  Colleges,  for 
those  controulers  of  publick  sentiment,  and  directors 
of  publick  affairs,  from  which  society  must  and  will 
receive  its  predominant  character;  and  that  the  greater 
the  amount  of  their  talents  and  learning,  the  greater, 
ordinarily,  will  be  the  extent  and  the  potency  of  their 
influence,  whether  bad  or  good,  in  the  community. 

It  is  true,  the  celebrated  M.  Rousseau^  that  singu- 
lar votary  of  paradox  and  of  scepticism,  wished  there 
were  no  Colleges,  as  he  thought  them  far  more  inju- 
rious than  useful,  on  the  plan  upon  which  they  were 
usually  conducted.  He  also  thought,  that  one  of  the 
most  important  secrets  of  education  was,  "  not  to  gain 
time,  but  to  lose  it."*  And,  indeed,  if  education  must 
necessarily  consist  in  inculcating  the  principles  which 
seem  to  have  governed  the  life  and  the  pen  of  that 
anomalous  man,  and  those  of  his  school,  then  I  should 

*  ^Emilius  I.  9,  80,  128.  H.  100. 


11 

certainly  agree  with  him,  that  the  fewer  such  Colleges, 
the  better;  and  that  the  later  the  work  of  enlightening 
the  mind  of  a  youth  was  begun,  the  happier  for  him- 
self. But  that  the  earlier  enlightened  Christian 
EDUCATION  is  begun,  the  better,  I  have  no  doubt:  and 
that  Colleges,  as  they  actually  exist  in  our  Country, 
with  all  the  disadvantages  under  which  the  raostof  them 
labour,  from  their  infancy  and  poverty,  and  also  mak- 
ing a  large  allowance  for  occasional  mismanagement, 
are,  on  the  whole,  a  source  of  rich  blessing  to  the  na- 
tion, I  can  doubt  as  little.  They  are  sources  from 
which  important  benefits  have  been  already,  and  are 
daily,  derived;  and  that  incomparably  greater  benefits 
will,  under  the  Divine  blessing,  be  derived  from  them 
in  future,  it  is  deliglitful  to  anticipate. 

Colleges  are  the  Fountains  from  which  Civil  So- 
ciety draws  its  most  important  supplies,  and  receives 
the  formation  of  its  intellectual,  social,  and  moral  cha- 
racter. Thence  are  sent  forth,  from  year  to  year,  those 
Legislators,  on  whose  wisdom,  integrity  and  prudence, 
the  character  of  our  laws  must  depend;  those  Judges 
and  Magistrates^  on  whose  knowledge  and  probity  the 
administration  of  publick  justice  must  rest;  those  Law- 
yers, to  whom  the  rights  and  property  of  their  fellow 
citizens  are,  every  day,  necessarily  committed,  and 
who  have  it  continually  in  their  power  to  influence,  in 
the  most  vital  manner,  the  social  and  moral  interests 


IS 

of  men;  those  PhysiciajiSj  to  whom  we  daily  entrust 
our  health  and  lives,  and  who,  by  skill  and  upright- 
ness, or  by  ignorance  and  profligacy,  may  become,  to 
an  extent  that  no  tongue  can  tell,  the  benefactors  or 
the  scourges  of  those  around  them ;  and,  finally,  those 
Instructors  of  Youth,  to  whom  we  commit  our  beloved 
offspring,  and  who  are  to  impress  upon  the  rising  gen- 
eration the  principles  and  habits  which  may,  perhaps, 
characterize  them  through  life,  and  even  cleave  to 
them  as  long  as  they  exist. 

Again;  Colleges  are  the  Fountains  from  which  the 
Christian  Church  is  commonly  supplied  with  her 
Ministry.  There  are,  ordinarily,  trained  up  those 
Heralds  of  the  Cross,  on  whose  piety,  orthodoxy,  and 
zeal,  the  salvation  of  millions  may,  under  God,  depend. 
And,  as  long  as  the  union  of  pietv  and  learning  shall 
be  deemed  necessary  to  prepare  Ministers  of  the  Gos- 
pel for  the  proper  discharge  of  the  duties  of  their  of- 
fice, this  must  continue  to  be  the  case.  How  much, 
then,  in  this  respect,  depends  upon  the  character  of 
our  seats  of  learning!  On  the  one  hand,  if,  on  account 
of  the  low  state  of  religion  in  them,  they  either  cannot 
furnish  an  adecpiate  number  of  candidates  for  the  sa- 
cred office,  or  send  out  such  as  will  be  a  curse  to  the 
church,  instead  of  a  blessing :  if  their  supply  should 
be  so  scanty,  as  to  leave  the  greater  part  of  our  popu- 
lation "  as  sheep  without  shepherds^'  or  of  so  corrupt 


13 

and  corrupting  a  character  as  to  be  far  worse  than  a 
deficiency;  in  either  case,  the  vital  interests  of  the 
church  must  deeply  suffer.  On  the  other  hand,  if  our 
Colleges  be  fountains  of  truth,  virtue,  sound  learning, 
and  genuine  piety,  and  be  continually  pouring  out  cor- 
responding streams;  they  will  "  make  glad  the  city  of 
our  God;'^  and  many  a  barren  field,  and  many  a  deso- 
late wilderness  will  be  converted  into  a  '^'^  garden  of 
the  Loi'dy 

Nor  is  it  merely  in  reference  to  the  character  of  her 
Miiiistry,  but  in  a  variety  of  other  ways,  that  the  in- 
fluence of  our  Colleges  is  daily  extended  to  the  Church 
of  Christ.  The  Church  needs  pious  and  well-informed 
lay-members,  as  well  as  pious  and  learned  pastors. 
Nay,  there  are  peculiar  kinds  of  service,  which  none 
can  so  well  render  to  the  cause  of  the  Redeemer,  as 
enlightened  and  pious  laymen.  When,  therefore,  evan- 
gelical principles  and  practice  reign  in  our  higher 
Seminaries  of  learning;  when  the  hearts  of  many  in- 
genuous youth,  who  might  have  been  otherwise  lost  to 
the  community,  are  turned  into  the  right  channel,  and 
zealously  devoted  to  the  cause  of  truth  and  righteous- 
ness; even  if  a  number  of  them  make  choice  of  secular 
professions,  still  they  may  all  contribute,. and  largely 
contribute,  to  the  advancement  of  that  kingdom,  in 
which  the  pious  of  every  name  have  an  interest,  and 
which  is  destined,  ultimately,  to  fill  the  world. 


14, 

Now,  lay  all  these  things  together.  Recollect  that 
it  has  been  computed,  that  there  are,  at  least,  three 
THOUSAND  YOUNG  MEN  Constantly  in  a  course  of  edu- 
cation in  the  Colleges  in  the  United.  States.  Of  these, 
a  fourth  part,  or  between  seven  and  eight  hundred, 
we  may  calculate,  are  annually  sent  forth  into  the  com- 
munity, decorated  with  the  first  Degree  in  the  Arts, 
and  prepared  to  enter  on  their  professional  studies. 
Suppose  only  half  of  these  to  possess  talents  and  at- 
tainments equal  to  the  point  of  mediocrity,  and  what 
a  flood  of  active  influence  may  we  consider  as  poured 
from  these  Fountains,  every  year,  into  the  community! 
Surely  he  must  be  under  the  controul  of  a  singular 
scepticism,  who  can  doubt  that  the  power,  constantly 
brought  from  this  source,  to  bear  upon  all  the  great 
interests  of  society,  is  incalculable  and  growing ! 

We  may  well,  indeed,  wonder,  my  friends,  that  a 
sovereign  God  is  pleased  to  make  poor  worms  of  the 
dust,  in  themselves  so  mean  and  unworthy,  of  so  much 
importance  in  society;  instruments  of  accomplishing 
so  much  good,  or  so  much  evil,  among  those  around 
them.  With  what  a  singular  feeling  does  it  impress 
the  mind,  at  first  view,  when  we  see  a  train  of  gowned 
Youth  attending  in  a  Seminary  of  learning,  to  recol- 
lect that  THESE,  and  such  as  these,  are,  in  a  little 
while,  to  have  all  the  most. precious  interests  of  soci- 
ety in  their  hands;  without  any  other  pledge  of  wise 


15 

management  than  their  own  principles  and  character; 
— without  any  other  controul  than  the  holy  Provi- 
dence of  God!  But  so  it  is!  In  these  infinitely  mo- 
mentous and  interesting  circumstances,  has  God  been 
pleased  to  place  every  successive  generation  of  the 
Young.  Your  Maker,  my  young  friends,  has  assigned 
you,  '^^«.?  hireUngs,^^  your  place,  and  your  day.  You 
have  entered  on  your  career.  That  career  is  to  be 
productive  of  infinitely  important  consequences,  not 
only  to  yourselves,  but  to  mankind.  The  period  now 
opening  upon  us,  shall  be  of  such  character  as  You, 
and  those  who  are  similarly  situated  with  yourselves, 
shall  stamp  upon  it.  Surely,  then,  the  literary  Insti- 
tutions of  our  Country,  may,  with  the  utmost  propri- 
ety, be  styled,  emphatically,  the  Fountains  of  its  life, 
and  order,  and  happiness. 

From  this  consideration,  it  obviously  follows — 

II.  That  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  the 
Salt  of  good  principles  be  cast  into  these 
Fountains;  and  that  for  this,  we  ought  all  to  labour 
and  pray  without  ceasing. 

The  word  Salt  is  frequently  employed  by  the  in- 
spired writers  to  express  purity ,  or  rather  that  which 
has  a  tendency  to  make  and  to  keep  pure,  '*  Ye  are 
the  salt  of  the  earth^^  said  the  Saviour  to  his  disci- 
ples— '^  hut  if  the  salt  have  lost  its  savour,  xvherewith 


16 

fihall  it  he  salted?  it  is  thenceforth  good  for  nothing,  but 
to  be  cast  out,  and  to  be  trodden  under  foot  of  menP 
— Again;  "  Let  your  speech,^^  says  the  Apostle,  ^^  be 
always  with  grace,  seasoned  with  salt,  that  it  may  min- 
ister grace  unto  the  hearersP  And,  accordingly,  un- 
der the  ceremonial  economy,  it  was  directed,  that  ev- 
ery offering  to  God  should  be  ^'  seasoned  with  salt;^^ 
to  intimate  the  necessity  of  their  being  oifered  up  with 
sincerity  and  purity  of  mind;  and  as  a  token,  also,  of 
unfeigned  friendship,  on  the  part  of  the  offerer,  to  his 
God;  for  it  is  well  known  that,  among  the  ancients, 
and  especially  among  the  Orientals,  eating  salt  togeth- 
er was  considered  as  a  pledge  of  friendship,  which 
must  never,  under  any  circumstances,  be  forfeited. 
Hence  we  read  of  a  ^^  covenant  of  saW — that  is,  a 
covenant  never  to  be  broken  or  forgotten. 

Now,  that  of  which  I  wish  to  convince  my  hearers, 
is,  that  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  the  salt 

OF  SOUND  MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  PRINCIPLES,  in  their 

practical  influence; — or,  to  express  all  in  a  word, — 
THE  SALT  OF  GENUINE  PIETY,  be  cast  iuto  our  Lite- 
rary Fountains,  as  the  only  means  of  preserving  them 
from  putrefaction,  and  making  them  sources  of  life, 
health,  and  happiness  to  the  community. 

And  here  my  friends,  does  it  demand  formal  rea- 
soning to  shew,  that  he  who  drinks  poison  will  proba- 
bly be  injured  by  itj  that  when  a  fountain  is  poisoned, 


17 

those  who  resort  fo  it  must  sicken  and  die?  Would 
any  of  you  advise  a  friendj  unless,  indeed,  you  wished 
to  destroy  him,  to  drink  at  such  a  fountain?  You 
certainly  would  not,  if  you  were  in  your  right  mind. 
Equally  plain  is  it,  that,  if  the  Literary  Fountains, 
whence  are  derived  the  great  mass  of  the  instructors 
and  guides  of  society,  are  poisoned,  the  mischief  of 
such  a  state  of  things  to  the  community  must  he  be- 
yond all  calculation ;  that  all  patriots,  as  well  as  all 
pious  men,  ought  to  regard  such  Institutions  with  grief 
and  abhorrence ;  and  that  all  who  love  human  happi- 
ness ought  dady  and  fervently  to  pray  that  they  may 
be  ''  healedP 

Picture  to  your  imaginations,  for  a  moment,  a  Col- 
lege thus  corrupt;  thus  abounding  with  moral  poison. 
Suppose  the  Instructors  to  be  able,  diligent  and  faith- 
ful; the  Laws  to  be  excellent;  and  the  endeavours  to 
execute  them  to  be  of  the  most  vigilant  and  paternal 
character.  But  suppose,  amidst  all  this,  a  large  num- 
ber of  the  pupils  to  be,  as  far  as  they  dare  to  be,  li- 
centious in  principle,  and  profligate  in  practice.  Sup- 
pose them  to  be  constantly  contriving  how  far  they 
can  go,  in  eluding  the  vigilance,  and  trampling  on  the 
authority  of  tiieir  Teachers.  Suppose  their  midnight 
orgies  to  be  marked  with  profaneness,  with  blasphe- 
my, with  drunkenness,  with  gambling,  and  with  every 
species  of  immoral  practice,  to  which  they  are  pre- 


18 

sented  with  an  opportunity  and  «.  temptation.  In 
short,  suppose  a  large  number  of  the  members  of  the 
Institution  to  be  in  the  habit  of  regarding  every  act 
of  dissipation  and  profligacy  in  which  they  can  in- 
dulge, without  falling  under  the  lash  of  discipline,  as 
so  much  clear  gain,  and  as  indicating  genius  and  spi- 
rit.  Suppose  such  habits  to  be  prevalent  in  a  Col- 
lege— and,  I  will  appeal  to  every  hearer — nay,  I  will 
confidently  appeal  to  the  gayest  and  most  licentious 
of  you  all — whether  you  would  be  willing — whether 
in  judgment  and  in  conscience  you  could  be  willing  to 
send  a  tenderly  beloved  relative  to  such  an  Institu- 
tion? No!  I  am  confident  you  could  not.  The  veriest 
youth  would  be  thought  a  demon,  who  should  wish  or 
advise  it. 

Now,  having  distinctly  imaged  to  your  minds  a 
College  of  this  character,  place  yourselves  again,  for 
a  moment,  in  the  situation  of  some  fond,  anxious,  and 
virtuous  ParentSf  who  were  about  to  select  a  place  of 
education  for  a  beloved  and  ingenuous  son; — a  son 
trained  up  in  the  most  regular  habits,  imbued  with 
excellent  principles,  and  whom  they  regarded  with 
sanguine  hope,  as  the  comfort  and  stay  of  their  old 
age.  They  look  round  with  anxiety — an  anxiety 
which  none  but  a  Parent's  heart  can  know,  on  all  the 
Colleges  v\ithin  their  reach  or  knowledge.  In  all,  as 
in  every  thing  human,  they  see  something  which  they 


19 

regret;  in  all  they  find  difficulties  and  objections. 
They  select,  however,  in  evil  hour,  the  Institution 
which  I  have  just  described.  With  a  trembling  heart, 
they  send  their  son  forward.  He  enters  it,  with  fine 
talents;  with  delicate  and  virtuous  sentiments;  abhor- 
ring the  wickedness,  as  well  as  the  beastly  and  con- 
temptible character  of  vice;  and  promising  to  be  alj 
that  those  who  love  him  can  reasonably  desire. 

See  this  promising  and  precious  young  man  taking 
his  place  in  the  Institution  supposed,  with  raised  ex- 
pectations of  what  he  is  to  find  in  a  band  of  ingenuous 
and  honourable  youth,  and  with  many  resolutions,  that 
he  will  strive  to  equal  the  best  of  them  in  all  that  is 
praiseworthy.  He  casts  an  eye  around  him,  with  a 
view  to  the  selection  of  his  particular  associates.  He 
sees,  perhaps,  some,  who  appear,  at  first  view,  among 
the  most  polished,  amiable,  and  attractive  of  the  whole 
number;  and  he  trusts  to  appearances  and  first  im- 
pressions. He  sees  not  that  they  are  ^^  ivhited  se- 
pulchres.''^ He  sees  not  that,  with  all  their  high 
pretensions  to  gentility  and  honourable  feeling,  they 
can  lie,  and  deceive,  and  cheat,  and  indulge,  cov- 
ertly, in  the  most  degrading  vices.  He  sees  not, 
that,  after  pledging  their  truth  and  honour  to  obey 
every  law,  they  are  ready  to  break  every  one,  with  as 
little  hesitation  or  misgiving  as  the  most 'abandoned 
highw^ayman  demands  a  purse:  and  yet,  that,  all 
this  notwithstanding,   they   expect   to   be   regarded 


20 

as  ^•gentlemen,"  and  young  '^^men  of  honour,'^  and 
are  ready  to  pursue  with  the  utmost  vengeanccj 
the  slightest  whisper  of  suspicion  to  the  contrary. 
This^  he  sees  not,  at  first.  He  is  taken  with  their 
plausible  appearance  and  manners,  and  seeks  their 
society.  Like  the  Harpies,  in  fabled  story,  they 
fasten  upon  him,  with  greater  voracity,  but  with  less 
of  disgusting  exteriour,  than  those  obscene  birds. 
He  becomes  their  captive  ;  secretly  thinking,  that  he 
shall  gain  from  them,  at  any  rate,  a  knowledge  of  the 
world ;  and  that,  if  he  find  their  deportment  other- 
wise than  he  could  wish,  it  will  be  in  his  power  to 
withdraw  from  their  society  at  any  moment.  He 
frequents  their  company.  He  goes  freely  into  their 
apartments.  Here  they  begin  to  disclose  their  true 
character.  Their  language  and  habits  at  first  shock 
him :  but  in  a  little  while  he  becomes  familiar  with 
<f'  both; — next  a  partaker  in  them  ; — and,  at  length,   as 

corrupt  and  shameless  as  any  of  their  number. 

After  a  few  months,  perhaps,  his  Parents  come  to  see 
their  beloved  son,  or  he  goes  home  to  spend  a  vaca- 
tion.— But,  O  how  changed  !  He  is  no  longer  the 
pleasj/ut  and  docile  youth,  whom  they  lately  dismis- 
sed from  their  anxious  and  tender  embrace.  He  no 
longer  meets  them  with  the  frank,  fearless  and  affec- 
tionate countenance  which  formerly  marked  all  his 
approaches.  On  the  contrary,  his  downcast  eye,  liis 
inflamed  visage,  his  love  of  the  intoxicating  glass,  his 
impatience  of  controul,  his  readiness  to  ''make a  mock 


21 

at  sin,^^  and  perhaps  his  unbhishing  profaneness  and 
profligacy — but  too  plainly  inform  them  that  the  prin- 
ciples of  his  education  have  fled,  and  that,  without  a 
miracle,  he  is  a  lost  youth  ;  lost  to  them,  and  lost  to 
his  country. 

Put  yourselves,  for  a  moment,  my  hearers,  in  the 
place  of  the  parents  and  friends  of  such  a  young  man. 
Suppose  a  beloved  relative  of  your  own  to  be  thus 
corrupted  and  ruined,  at  a  Seat  of  Science,  to  which 
he  had  been  sent  for  his  imprbvement.  What  would 
be  your  feelings?  What  would  you* think  of  the  ten- 
dency of  such  a  College,  as  to  its  influence  on  the 
community  ?  Above  all,  what  would  you  think  of 
the  demons  in  human  shape  who  had  been  the  im- 
mediate authors  of  the  mischief?  Would  you  not 
execrate  and  abhor  them  ?  Would  not  your  hearts  be 
torn  with  alternate  emotions  of  anguish  and  indigna- 
tion ?  O,  my  young  friends !  I  must  say,  for  one,  that 
I  would  not  lie  under  the  guilt  and  the  infamy  of  hav- 
ing thus  destroyed  an  amiable,  inexperienced,  unof- 
fending youth,  for  time  and  eternity ;  and  of  having 
inflicted  wounds  in  the  hearts  of  tender  and  virtuous 
Parents,  which  no  time  can  heal;— -I  repeat — I  would 
not  subject  myself  to  the  guilt,  and  the  just  execration 
of  such  a  diabolical  achievement,  for  all  the  sinful 
pleasures  that  the  sons  of  sensuality  have  ever  enjoy- 
ed^ from  the  fall  of  man  to  the  present  hour. 


22 

But,  on  tlie  other  hand,  figure  to  yourselves  a  Col- 
lege of  a  different  character.  Figure  to  your  minds  a 
College*  in  which,  besides  all  the  advantages  of  able 
Instructors,  wise  Laws,  and  a  happy  Administration ; 
— the  great  body  of  the  Students  are  sober,  studious, 
orderly,  and  disposed  to  treat  with  filial  respect  and 
affection,  those  who  are  set  over  them,  and  who  are 
daily  labouring  and  toiling  to  promote  their  benefit. 
Suppose  regularity,  diligence,  laudable  emulation  in 
study,  correct  morals,  and  a  cordial  reverence  for  the 
religion  of  Jesus  Christ  to  pervade  the  house.  Sup- 
pose, now,  among-  the  many  who  resort  to  such  a  seat 
of  learning  (for  many  would  resort  to  it)  there  are 
numbers  of  young  men  from  families  habitually  heath- 
enish and  profane ;  from  families  in  which  no  Bible 
was  ever  read  ;  no  Sabbath  ever  observed  ;  no  fear  of 
God  ever  inculcated  or  known  : — where  all  that  they 
had  ever  been  taught,  on  the  subject  of  Religion,  was. 
to  laugh  at  it,  as  superstition  ;  and  where  sensual 
pleasure  was  pursued  as  the  chief  good.  In  accor- 
dance with  their  training,  I  will  suppose  the  char- 
acter of  these  youth  to  be,  when  they  enter  this 
virtuous,  healthful  and  happy  Society. — Before  they 
are  aware,  they  catch  its  spirit.  They  perceive, 
without  reasoning,  the  folly  of  their  former  course, 
and  the  wisdom  of  that  whicli  they  now  see  daily 
exemplified.  They  gradually  imbibe  the  correct  sen- 
timents, and  fall  in  with  the  laudable  habits  which 


23 

surround  them.  They  become  sober-minded,  regular, 
serious,  and,  eventually,  pious;  and  go  forth  into  the 
world,  prepared  to  act  their  part  in  life,  in  a  manner 
worthy  of  rational  and  immortal  beings;  prepared  to 
be  the  delight  of  their  relatives,  and  to  adorn  every 
wfilk  of  social,  domestick,  civil,  and  professional  life 
to  which  they  may  be  called. 

And  is  this  a  small  blessing?  In  the  case  before 
supposed,  we  saw  gold  turned  into  dross;  but  in 
that  now  before  us,  we  hail  a  more  happy  transforma- 
tion. We  "see  dross  turned  into  gold.  And  is  this, 
I  ask  again,  a  small  blessing?  Is  a  College,  the  state 
of  which  is  adapted  to  multiply  examples  op  this 
KIND,  a  small  benefit  to  the  community?  Once  more  I 
appeal  to  the  ingenuous  feelings  of  the  most  unthink- 
ing youth  present. — Does  not  your  heart  spontane- 
ously answer — "  Let  the  lot  of  me  and  mine  be  cast 
in  such  a  Seminary!'' 

Imagine  not,  my  friends,  that  the  pictures  which  I 
have  drawn,  are  mere  fanciful  representations.  I 
can  assure  you  that — to  my  knowledge — they  have 
both  been  realities,  and  that  within  these  walls, 
at  different  periods  of  our  history.  God,  of  his  infinite 
mercy,  grant  that,  in  time  to  come,  the  fav.ourable  side 
of  the  picture  may  alone  be  realized,  in  the  experience 
of  our  beloved  College! 


24 

But  what  is  that  Salt  which  we  ought  to  wish  and 
pray  might  be  cast  into  these  Fountains?  What  is  that 
life-giving  and  healthful  influence,  which  is  adapted 
to  render  seminaries  of  learning  a  real  blessing  to  so- 
ciety?   I  repeat,  what  was   before   suggested — it  is 

SOUND  MORAL  AND  CHRISTIAN  PRINCIPLE; it  is  RE- 
LIGION— GENUINE,  PRACTICAL  Rkligion.  In  Other 
words,  it  is  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  poured  out  upon 
the  students; — inspiring  them  with  wisdom;  control- 
ing  their  passions;  purifying  their  hearts  and  lives; 
working  in  them  the  fear  and  the  love  of  God;  and 
disposing  them,  in  their  studies,  and  in  all-  their  in- 
tercourse, to  make  his  will  the  sovereign  guide  of 
their  conduct,  and  his  glory  the  great  end  of  their 

pursuits. Nothing  less  than  this,  rely  on  it,  my 

friends,  will  answer  the  purpose.  We  may  speculate 
and  philosophize  as  we  please  about  other  remedies 
for  the  corrupt  tendencies  of  human  nature;  but  they 
will  all  be  in  vain.  The  '^strong  man  armed,^^  can 
never  be  cast  out,  until  One  stronger  than  he  comes 
and  takes  up  his  abode  in  the  soul.  Nothing  less  than 
the  Religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  cordially  embraced,  and 
practically  obeyed,  is  of  sufficient  potency  to  make 
such  a  society  as  this,  what  it  ought  to  be, — a  scene 
of  order,  purity,  diligence,  harmony,  and  high-mind- 
ed, fraternal  emulation.  We  may  tell  young  men, 
every  day  that  we  live,  of  the  wisdom  and  happiness 
of  virtue.    We  may  prove  to  them,  with  all  the  force 


25 

of  demonstration,  and  with  all  the  impressiveness  of 
the  most  perfect  eloquence,  that  the  path  of  tem- 
perance, industry  and  undeviating  regularity,  is,  in 
every  respect,  the  wisest  course.  We  may  assure 
them,  that  it  is  as  much  their  happiness  and  their 
honour,  as  it  is  their  duty,  to  be  all  that  their  instructors 
ought  to  require  or  wish.  We  may  tell  them  all  this. 
And  they  will  fully  believe  us.  They  know  that  it  is 
so.  Their  judgments  and  their  consciences  are  deci- 
sively in  favour  of  all  that  we  say.  But,  ah!  the  heart 
is  not  gained.  When,  therefore,  passion  pleads;  when 
the  syren  voice  of  pleasure  calls — away  they  hasten, 
^*  as  an  ox  goeth  to  the  slaughter.''''  The  monitions  of 
conscience  are  either  not  heard  at  all,  or,  if  heard, 
speedily  drowned  in  the  overflowing  tide  of  youthful 
feeling.  Alas!  how  many  young  men,  whose  sober 
convictions,  when  consulted,  are  strongly  on  the  side 
of  virtue,  have,  notwithstanding,  from  the  mere  influ- 
ence of  appetite  and  passion,  plunged  irretrievably 
into  opposite  courses,  and  destroyed  themselves,  soul 
and  body,  for  ever? 

We  are  all,  by  nature,  dreadfully  depraved,  my 
young  friends.  This  depravity  reigns  in  the  heart  as 
well  as  in  the  life.  The  remedy  must,  of  course,  be 
commensurate  with  the  disease.  And  I  know  of  no 
such  remedy,  but  the  grace  of  that  God  who  made  the 
heart,  and  who  alone  can  turn  it  *•'  as  the  rivers  ofxva- 


36 

fers  are  turnedP  Not  that  I  am  disposed  to  deny,  that 
there  are  some  young  persons,  as  well  as  some  in  more 
advanced  life,  who  are  sober  and  blameless  in  their 
lives,  although  they  have  no  genuine  piety.  There 
are^  doubtless,  such  cases.  But  they  are  comparative- 
ly few;  and  when  they  do  occur,  it  is  commonly  either 
from  peculiar  physical  temperament:  or  from  the  re- 
s.training  influence  of  early  education;  or  from  such  a 
predominant  thirst  after  knowledge,  or  worldly  ag- 
grandizement, as  triumphs  over  every  other  propen- 
sity. And,  even  in  such  cases,  we  have  no  security 
that  this  sober  and  exemplary  course  will  last.  Some 
unexpected  change  of  circumstances,  or  some  new 
temptation,  may  draw  aside  the  most  regular  to  their 
final  ruin.  There  is  no  security — I  say  again — to  any 
one,  young  or  old,  but  in  Religion.  We  are  all  navi- 
gating the  ocean  of  life.  None  of  us  can  tell  what 
storms  and  tempests  may  fall  upon  our  frail  bark,  the 
next  hour.  "  Pure  religion  and  undefiled^''^  in  its  gov- 
erning ^ind  consoling  power,  is  the  only  effectual  '^an- 
chor oftlie  soidP  That  can  and  will  hold  us,  even  in 
mid-ocean.  But,  without  it,  we  are  liable,  at  every 
age,  and  especially  in  the  morning  of  life,  when  pas- 
sion and  appetite  are  strong,  and  experience  small; — 
liable^  every  moment,  to  be  dashed  upon  the  rocks,  or 
swallowed  up  in  tlie  merciless  waves. 

But,  even  if  tolerably  decent  and  sober  characters 
could  be  formed,  and  formed  every  day,  without  the 


27  . 

aid  of  Religion;  yet,  after  all,  of  what  real  value  arc 
they,  in  most  cases,  to  society?  Suppose  our  Col- 
leges could  contrive  to  manufacture,  and  to  send  out, 
every  year,  swarms  of  such  men  as  Hobbes,  and  Shafts- 
bury,  and  BoUngbroke,  and  Hume,  and  Voltaire,  and 
Rousseau,  and  Buffoti,  and  Byron; — what  benefit 
would  they  confer  on  the  community?  Allowing  them 
as  much  decorum  of  moral  character  as  their  most 
partial  friends  can  ask,  (although,  in  this  respect,  the 
claims  of  some  of  them  are  far  from  being  undoubted) 
and  passing  also  entirely,  for  the  present,  the  pestife- 
rous influence  of  their  opinions  on  thousands;— what 
benefits,  I  ask,  did  they  ever  confer  on  mankind?  Did 
their  cold-blooded,  miserable  selfishness  ever  contrive 
or  execute  a  plan  for  promoting  human  happiness;  for 
alleviating  the  sufferings,  or  elevating  the  character  of 
their  species?  Was  it  ever  heard,  that  any  of  them 
made  any  important  sacrifice  for  the  benefit  of  others? 
Never!  What  would  society  be,  if  it  were  entirely 
made  up  of  such  men?  Men  who  seemed  to  think  that 
they  did  enough,  when  they  gratified  their  own  appe- 
tites, sought  supremely  their  own  glory,  and  satirized 
and  despised  all  the  rest  of  mankind.  One  Boyle,  or 
Howard,   or  Edwards,   or    Thornton,   or  More,^  is 

*  The  author  hopes  that  no  one  will  consider  him  as  here  referring  to  a 
living  Poet,  who  certainly  has  no  claim  to  a  place  in  any  list  of  moral  or 
useful  writers ;  and  who  will  probably  be  Torgotten,  or  remembered  only  to 
be  execrated,  by  the  wise  and  good  of  the  next  generation.  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  add,  that  the  reference  is  to  Mrs.  ^I4K^AH  More,  one  of  the 


38 

worth  myriads  of  such  philosophical  unbelievers,  who 
]iterr>lly  "  lived  to  themselves ;''^  and  who,  if  they  were 
ever  betrayed  into  a  beneficent  action,  seemed  rather 
to  have  been  led  to  it  by  that  animal  sympathy,  which 
prompts  many  of  the  brutal  tribes  to  help  their  kind, 
than  by  any  real  principle  of  love  to  their  fellow  men. 
And,  accordingly,  look  over  the  world,  in  every  age, 
and  see  whether  even  a  decent  proportion  of  the  great 
plans  and  exertions  in  behalf  of  human  happiness,  have 
been  achieved  by  infidels,  or  by  those  systematic  ne- 
glecters  of  all  religion,  who  are  little,  if  any,  better 
than  infidels?  Have  not  the  great  mass  of  them,  in  all 
christian  countries,  IJeen  the  work  of  the  friends  of  re- 
ligion, who  were  either  really  pious,  or  had  a  tone  of 
thinking,  of  acting,  and  of  general  character,  produced 
by  habitual  reverence  for  the  Gospel  of  Christ? 

Nor  is  the  moral  influence  of  Religion,  the  only 
consideration  which  renders  its  presence  and  power 
so  important  in  Seminaries  of  learning;  although  it 
must  be  acknowledged  that  this  is  its  most  direct  and 
precious  influence.  It  accomplishes  much  for  man, 
also,  as  an  intellectual  being.  It  enlarges  and 
strengthens  the  mind ;  imparts  to  it  a  new  and  benign 

most  illusliious  ornaments  of  her  nation  and  age ;  who  is  entitled  to  a 
place  among  the  most  eminently  tjsefci., — I  will  not  say,  of  female  wri- 
ters,— but  of  any  writers  now  living ;  and  whose  life  has  been  as  happily 
adajjted  as  her  writings,  to  do  good,  and  to  recommend  the  Religion  which 
she  professed. 


29 

impulse;  fixes  the  thoughts:  begets  habits  of  close  atten- 
tion, and  sober  reflection;  leads  the  individual  who  is  un- 
der its  influence  to  turn  his  views  inward;  to  converse 
with  himself;  to  examine  his  own  exercises,  and,  in 
short,  to  subject  to  a  more  regular  discipline  than  be- 
fore, all  his  mental  powers.  How  incalculably  impor- 
tant is  this  influence  to  the  mind  of  man  at  any  period 
of  his  course!  But,  especially,  how  important  at  that 
period,  and  in  those  situations,  in  which  the  intellect- 
ual faculties  are  evolving,  and  receiving  that  culture 
and  direction,  and  forming  those  habits,  which  are 
likely  to  reach  through  life!  I  will  venture  to  say, 
that,  wherever  real  religion  exists  in  its  purity  and 
power,  the  mind  of  its  possessor  is  more  enlarged, 
more  vigorous,  and  better  disciplined,  than  it  could 
possibly  have  been,  without  this  precious  gift  of  God. 
And,  if  there  be  any  truth  in  this  assertion,  then  it  is 
plain,  that  he  who  should  propose  to  conduct  a  band 
of  Youth  through  a  course  of  liberal  education,  with- 
out the  aid  of  religion,  would  neglect  one  of  the  most 
potent  and  precious  auxiliaries  to  which  he  could  re- 
sort, even  putting  entirely  out  of  view  its  power  as  a 
principle  of  sauctification,  and  its  essential  connexion 
with  everlasting  happiness. 

If  any  of  my  youthful  hearers  still  imagine  that  I 
make  more  of  the  importance  of  Religion  in  Colleges, 

— as  the  ONE  THIXG  NEEDFUL aS  THE  GRAND  REGU- 


30 

LATOR,  iiARMONizER,  and  PURIFIER  of  academical 
society, — for  wliich  nothing  else  can  serve  as  an  ade- 
quate substitute; — I  say,  if  any  of  my  young  hearers 
are  still  disposed  to  think,  that  I  lay  more  stress  upon 
it  than  I  ought;  let  me  entreat  them  to  bring  the  mat- 
ter to  the  test  of  experiment.  Let  those  who  are  not 
under  the  power  of  religious  principle,  shew  that  some 
other  influence  is  capable  of  producing  the  same  ef- 
fects. Let  them  shew,  in  any  College  whatever,  that 
there  is  an  equal  amount  of  blameless  submission  to 
law,  of  diligence  in  study,  of  social  inoffensiveness  and 
order,  and  of  unimpeachable  attention  to  every  pre- 
scribed duty,  among  a  given  number  of  the  neglecters 
of  all  religion,  as  among  a  corresponding  number  of  its 
cordial  friends.  But  if  this  will  not  be  attempted,  as  I 
confidently  believe  it  will  not,  the  inference  is  irresist- 
ible, that  the  influence  of  genuine  Religion,  on  Lite- 
rary Institutions,  is,  in  every  respect,  incalculably 
beneficial  to  its  immediate  subjects,  and  to  society. 

If  any  rational  man,  then,  wishes  to  see  our  Col- 
leges so  many  salubrious  Fountains,  sending  out  pure 
and  fertilizing  streams,  to  enrich  and  '■'■  make  glad  the 
city  of  our  God:'^ — If  he  really  wishes  to  see  them 
nurseries  of  genuine  virtue,  as  well  as  of  sound  learn- 
ing:— If  he  desires  to  see  them  annually  sending  forth 
bands  of  well-trained  vouth,  fitted  to  adorn  and  bless 
their  country,  in  all  the  walks  of  publick  and  private 


31 

life; — let  him  pray,  that  the  '^ saW^  of  divine  grace 
may  be  plentifully  cast  into  them.  Let  him  pray,  that 
the  Holy  Spirit  may  be  poured  out,  from  year  to  year, 
upon  them.  If  he  be  a  Christian,  I  am  sure  he  will 
pray  thus.  But,  even  if  he  be  not  a  Christian,  still  he 
ought  to  pray  thus;  for,  as  you  have  seen,  the  true 
prosperity  and  liappiness  of  our  country,  are  as  es- 
sentially involved  in  it  as  those  of  the  Church  of  God. 
It  as  much  becomes  the  patriot  as  the  saint  to  cry 
without  ceasing,  in  reference  to  these  Institutions, — 
''  O  Lord,  revive  thy  work;  in  the  midst  of  the  years 
make  knoivn;  in  xvrath  remember  mercy P^ 

1.  The  first  application  of  this  subject  will  be  natu- 
rally addressed  to  the  respected  and  beloved  Students 
OF  THE  College  in  which  we  are  now  assembled. 

My  young  friends,  your  parents  and  guardians  have 
sent  you  to  this  place,  for  acquiring  that  education,  and 
those  literary  honours,  which  it  is  the  prerogative  of  a 
College  to  bestow.  They  have  incurred,  and  are  daily 
incurring,  great  expense  for  your  sakes;  and  often,  no 
doubt,  deny  themselves  comforts,  that  you  may  enjoy 
them.  Toward  these  walls,  their  eyes  and  their  hearts 
are  often  directed,  with  the  tenderest  solicitude;  and 
each  of  them,  perhaps,  hopes,  that  every  returning 
visitant  to  Princeton,  will  bring  back  with  him  some 
gratifying  intelligence  concerning  his  beloved  son. — 
You  often  wonder,  it  may  be,  why  your  parents  are  so 


3^ 

anxious,  and  why  they  express  their  anxiety  so  fre- 
quently and  strongly.  Ah!  my  young  friends,  they 
know  more  than  you  do.  If  some  of  them  know  less 
of  literature  and  of  science  than  you  can  boast,  they 
know  far  more  of  life;  more  of  the  dangers  to  which 
you  are  exposed;  more  of  the  infinite  importance  of 
the  principles  you  now  imbibe,  and  the  habits  you 
now  form,  than  you  can  possibly  know.  You  are 
probably  looking  upon  the  period  of  your  collegiate 
course,  as  a  fairy  scene,  which  will,  beyond  a  doubt, 
shine  brightly  to  the  end,  and  which  can  hardly  fail 
of  being  introductory  to  a  brighter  and  happier  one. 
But  their  greater  experience  compels  them  to  look 
upon  it  with  a  more  serious  and  distrustful  eye.  They 
have  seen  the  brilliant  rise,  and  the  ignominious  fall, 
of  many  a  splendid  youth.  They  know  that  your  pre- 
sent couESE  may  give  a  colouring,  and  a  character,  to 
all  your  future  prospects.  They  remember,  that,  upon 
your  conduct  and  your  acquirements  here,  it  may 
depend,  whether  you  are  to  comfort  them,  or  to  plant 
daggers  in  their  hearts;  whether  you  are  to  be  bless- 
ings or  curses  to  society.  Can  you  wonder,  then,  that 
they  are  anxious?  Can  you  wonder  that  they  pass 
many  a  sleepless  night  in  solicitude  and  prayer  for 
you?  Truly  they  have  reason  enough  to  be  anxious. 
Alas!  the  only  wonder  is,  that,  in  these  circumstances^ 
you  can  pass  an  hour  without  being  deeply  anxious  for 
yourselves ! 


33 

But  vonr  parents,  and  other  near  relatives,  my 
young  friends,  are  by  no  means  the  only  persons  who 
feel  a  tender  interest  in  your  welfare.  If  the  repre- 
sentation made  in  the  former  part  of  this  discourse  be 
correct,  then  we,  all  of  us, — nay,  not  only  all  of  us 
who  are  here  present,  but  the  whole  coMMtJNiTY, 
have  an  interest  in  your  talents,  your  attainments, 
and  your  character,  of  the  deepest  kind.  You  see, 
then,  the  reason  why  you  are  the  objects  of  so  much 
solicitude,  and  of  so  many  prayers.  You  see  the  rea- 
son why  your  faithful  Instructors  cease  not  to  urge 
upon  you  an  immediate  choice  of  the  Saviour  and  his 
service:  why  we,  who  occupy  this  pulpit  from  sab- 
bath to  sabbath,  join  with  equal  earnestness  in  the 
same  entreaty:  nay,  why  the  pious,  in  every  part  of 
the  United  States^  think  it  their  duty  to  unite  in  spe- 
cial prayer  to  God,  that  he  would  visit  and  bless  you 
with  his  grace.  Can  you,  after  what  you  have  heard, 
wonder  at  this?  Surely  you  cannot!  When  we  see  so 
much  of  the  comfort,  and  of  all  the  most  precious  in- 
terests, of  your  families,  of  society,  and  of  tl.»e  Church 
of  God,  depending  upon  the  course  you  take,  and  the 
characters  you  form,  can  we  avoid  the  most  anxious 
feelings  respecting  you?  If  we  love  our  Country;  if 
we  love  the  Church  which  the  Redeemer  has  pur- 
chased with  his  own  blood;  if  we  love  our_God;  nay, 
if  we  love  ourselves,  can  we  ever  approach  the  throne 
of  grace,  without  remembering  You, — I  had  almost 


34 

said,  whatever  else  we  forget?  If,  in  these  circum- 
stances, we  could  cease  to  feel,  or  cease  to  plead,  we 
should,  indeed,  be  more  than  brutally  obdurate. 

You  will  also  readily  perceive,  my  young  friends, 
from  what  has  been  said,  the  reason  why  those  who 
love  the  welfare  of  society,  are  always  desirous  of  see- 
ing our  Colleges  purged  of  every  unwholesome  mem- 
ber.   Many  of  you,  perhaps,  are  sometimes  ready  to 
take  narrow  views  of  this  subject.   You  are  often  rea- 
dy, it  may  be,  to  wonder,  why  there  should  be  so 
much  anxiety  manifested  to  exclude  from  a  Seminary 
like  this,  even  a  small  number  of  students,  who  are 
known  to  be  vile  and  profligate  in  their  habits.    It 
seems  a  very  inconsiderable  thing,  at  first  view,  that 
there  should  be  only  five  or  six  young  men  of  this  cha- 
racter, found  amidst  an  overwhelming  majority  of  se- 
ven or  eight  score,  who  are  entirely,  or  at  least  gene- 
rally, regular  in  their  deportment.    You  imagine  that 
no  evil  can  possibly  result  from  allowing  a  few  corrupt 
members  to  remain  in  a  community,  the  great  mass 
of  which  is  comparatively  pure.    But  we,  my  young 
friends,  who  have  somewhat  more  experience  than 
you  can  have,  see  this  fact  in  a  very  different  light. 
We  behold  it  with  heartfelt  grief,  as  an  evil  of  appal- 
ling magnitude.    We  not  only  see  the  besotted,  in- 
fatuated beings  belonging  to  such  a  group,  destroying 
themselves,  and  bringing  down  the  gray  hairs  of  their 


35 

parents  with  sorrow  to  the  grave ;  but  we  see  much 
more: — we  see  them  to  be  so  much  poison — concen- 
trated, virulent  poison,  in  a  publick  Fountain,  to 
which  many  others  are  daily  coming  to  drink;  and  at 
which  all  who  come,  will  be  in  imminent  danger  of 
finding  death,  rather  than  aliment  and  life.  You  for- 
get that  half  a  dozen  corrupt,  licentious  youth,  who 
are  so  disposed,  may  make  this  house  a  ^^  little  hell,'' 
as  disgusting  as  it  is  dangerous  to  all  others  who  sh;dl 
enter  it.*  It  would  be  really  less  distressing  to  know 
that  the  same  number  of  robbers  or  banditti  were  ly- 
ing in  wait  around  our  village: — for  they  could  only 
kill  the  bodies,  or  take  away  the  property  of  the  in- 
habitants. But  in  the  polluted  atmosphere,  by  tbe  di- 
abolical touchj  of  such  profligates  as  I  have  supposed, 
the  IMMORTAL  SPIRITS  of  ppccious  youth  DIE,  and  die 
for  ever!  Would  not  the  guardians  of  such  an  Insti- 
tion,  then; — I  appeal  to  your  calm  and  deliberate 
judgment; — would  they  not  be  l»ighly  criminal;  nay, 
would  they  not  be  accessory  to  the  most  deplorable  of 
all  MURDER,  if  they  knowingly  and  willingly  allowed 

*  Distant  readers,  may,  perhaps,  draw  the  conclusion,  fi-om  this  para- 
graph, and  several  others,  in  the  course  of  the  sermon,  tliat  the  author  con- 
siders the  College  of  J\'exu-Jersey  as  peculiarly  corrupt  Tliis  is  by  no  means 
his  impression.  On  the  contrary,  he  verily  believes  it  will  bear,  as  to  m  -ral 
ord  r,  a  very  honourable  comparison  with  the  very  best  of  those  Col!eg-es 
in  the  United  •States  with  which  he  is  acquainted.  But  he  is  not  satisfied 
with  tliis.  He  wishes  for  far  more.  He  wishes  to  see  it  as  pre-eminent  ui 
this  fespect,  as  its  venerable  Guardians  desire  and  pray  t!\at  it  may  be- 
come. 


36 

even  one  such  corrupt  member  to  remain,  at  the  risk 
of  contaminating  the  whole  body  placed  under  theircon- 
troul?  When  such  a  polluting  individual  is  excluded 
from  the  College,  those  who  see  only  a  part  of  the  evil 
done  or  threatened,  and  who  feel  no  immediate  re- 
sponsibility, sometimes  imagine  that  the  case  is  a  hard 
one,  and  suffer  the  risings  of  compassion  to  blind  their 
judgment.  But  if  they  only  saw  the  measure  in  all  its 
relations,  they  would  see  it  to  be  as  really  wise,  and 
even  kind,  as  the  amputation  of  a  mortified  limb,  to 
save  the  life  of  a  patient;  they  would  rejoice  in  the 
enlightened,  parental  benevolence  which  dictated  the 
painful  discipline. 

I  wish  it  were  in  my  power,-  my  young  friends,  to 
impart  to  you  such  views  of  this  subject,  as  1  am  sure 
an  enlightened  knowledge  of  facts  could  not  fail  to 
give. — Take  up  a  College  Catalogue.  O  it  is  a 
most  instructive  book!  It  affords  a  lively  comment  on 
all  that  I  have  told  you. — Take  it  up,  and  look,  first, 
at  the  melancholy  mark  of  death  which  stands  op- 
posite the  names  of  many  who  have  occupied  these 
seats  wilhin  tlie  last  twenty,  or  even  ten  years.  Ah! 
liow^  many  of  the  number  does  this  mark  tell  us  are 
gone!  And  some  of  them — if  I  have  not  been  misin- 
formed— some  whom  I,  and  others  have  often  solemnly 
warned, — died  miserably;  lamenting  their  folly;  with- 
out hope ;  and,  apparently,  with  all  the  remorse  and 


37 

horror  of  anticipated  damnation! — Young  man!  are 
you  willing  so  to  die?  I  know  you  are  not. — Then  fly 
from  that  course  which  terminated  thus ! — Look  again! 
Compare  the  names  in  the  Catalogue  with  the  charac- 
ters of  those  of  the  Sons  of  A''assau-Hallj  who  have  oc- 
cupied, or  now  occupy,  the  highest  standing  in  socie- 
ty; and  say  whether  they  are  not,  generally,  those 
who,  while  here,  were  sober,  orderly,  studious,  and 
great  respecters  of  religion,  if  not  pious?  I  say,  in- 
quire whether  they  were  not  generally  such  while 
here.  Is  the  fact  as  I  have  stated?  And  does  it  not 
speak  volumes?  Will  you  not  listen  to  it,  beloved 
youth!  while  you  may  profit  by  its  monitions;  before 
^^  the  things  which  belong  to  your  peace  are  for  eiwr 
hidden  from  your  eyes?^^ 

Do  you  ask  me,  what  is  the  bfst,  and  only  certain 
guarantee,  that  you  will  escape  the  evils  into  which 
many  of  your  predecessors  have  fallen;  and  obtain  the 
blessings  which  have  been  conferred  upon  others,  of  a 

more  happy  character? 1  have  already  told  you. — 

It  is  Religion — Genuine  religion.  Not  the  narrow 
peculiarities  of  a  sect; — these,  you  will  do  me  and 
others  the  justice  to  say,  you  have  never  heard  incul- 
cated from  this  pulpit; — but  that  vital,  practical  pie- 
ty, which  is  common  to  all  the  sincere  disciples  of 
Christj  of  every  name;  which  purifies,  as  I  have  said, 
both  the  heart  and  the  life ;  which  is  the  only  complete 


38 

finish  of  human  character;  and  which  adorns  and  sanc- 
tifies every  accomplishment.  It  is  this  which  those 
who  pray  for  a  revival  of  religion  in  our  Colleges,  su- 
premely desire  to  see  every  where  living  and  reigning. 
It  is  THIS,  which,  so  far  as  it  reigns,  will  ever  be  found 
to  form  diligent  students,  good  scholars,  young  men  of 
REAL  TRUTH  AND  HONOUR,  emulous  of  cvcry  virtuc, 
and  fitted  to  be  the  delight  of  all  the  wise  and  good 
who  know  them.  It  is  this,  in  short,  which  will  alone 
eflectually  lead  to  that  general  docility,  that  modera- 
tion in  pleasure  and  expense,*  that  filial  respect  to 
superiors,  and  that  studious  inoffensiveness  and  benev- 
olence towards  all,  without  which  Colleges  can  never 
be  either  tranquil  or  happy  in  themselves,  or  regarded 
with  approbation  by  any  enlightened  friend  of  society. 

*  It  ought  to  be  known  to  parents  and  guardians,  tliat  the  necessary 
EXPENSES,  at  Princeton,  as  well  as  at  most  of  the  other  Colleges  in  the  Uni- 
ted States,  ai'c  miicii  more  moderate  than  the  extravagant  habi's  of  some 
students  would  lead  them  to  suppose  Tlie  College  biils,  properly  so  call- 
ed, may  all  b^-  completely  satisfied  by  about  §200  per  attnum.  A  reasona- 
ble sum  for  clothing,  and  other  incidental  expenses,  may  easily  he  esti- 
mated :  and  all  that  is  allowed  to  inexperienced  youth  beyond  this,  is  so 
far  from  being  necessary  or  proper,  tbat  it  is  absolutely  a  bribe  to  licen- 
tiousness, and  seldom  f  lils  of  producing  that  effect.  The  instances  in  which 
excessive  ^up /lies  of  m  ney  have  injured  students  at  College,  are  as  nu- 
merous as  they  are  meluicholy.  The  young  man  who  has  much  money  to 
spend,  must  have  objects  on  whicii  to  spend  it  These  will  not  long  con- 
tic. ue  to  be  innocent.  They  will  first  lead  to  relaxation  from  study,  next  to 
idleness,  then  to  degradation  in  his  class,  soon  to  habitual  dissipation,  and 
finally  to  open  profligacy,  and,  perhaps,  to  ignominious  expulsion.  Such  is 
the  issue  of  n;uch  of  that  which  is  called  parental  tenderness,  but  which 
wouM  he  much  more  suitably  denominated  parental  infatuation,  or  rather 
parental  cruelty. 


39 

Sons  of  Nassau-Hall!  arise  in  the  majesty  of 
youthful  virtue  and  piety,  and  resolve, — in  the  strength 
of  Him  who  alone  can  enable  you  to  fulfil  your  resolu- 
tion,— that  this  Seat  of  science,  so  far  as  depends  on 
you^  shall,  from  this  hour,  be  a  seat  of  order,  diligence, 
virtue,  and  genuine  religion.  Resolve,  that  in  literary 
enterpnze,  in  sound  learning,  and  in  every  thing  that 
is  fitted  to  complete  the  character  of  scholars  and 
christians,  it  shall,  as  far  as  in  you  lies,  by  the  Divine 
blessing,  stand  pre-eminent  among  the  Colleges  of  the 
United  States.  For  this  purpose,  let  each  one  resolve 
for  himself,  that,  whatever  others  may  do,  as  for  him, 
he  will  make  choice  of  a  reconciled  God  and  Father  in 
Christ  as  his  portion.  Pray,  every  day  that  you  live, 
for  a  Revival  of  Religion  among  you.  Those  of  you 
who  are  professors  of  religion,  will  not  wonder  that  I 
call  upon  them  to  pray  for  a  revival.  But  I  do  not 
call  upon  them  only.  I  call  upon  every  one  of  you  to 
pray  for  it.  Pray,  thoughtless  young  man!  that  the 
blessing  may  come  to  you,  as  well  as  to  others.  Pray 
that  it  may  spread  in  every  direction,  and  fill  the 
house.  If  you  love  yourselves,  pray  for  it.  If  you 
love  your  Country,  pray  for  it.  If  you  love  your  Al^ 
ma  Mater,  pray  for  it.  If  you  love  the  Church  of 
God,  I  know  you  will  pray  for  it.  Believe  me,  you 
cannot  ask  for  a  richer  blessing;  for  it  brings  all  other 
real  blessings  in  its  train.  When  this  blessing  is  real- 
ized, then  may  it  be  emphatically  said,  by  the  Spirit 


40 

of  God,  ^'  Behold,  I  have  healed  tJiese  waters!  there 
shall  not  he  from  thence  any  more  death  P^ 

2.  But  the  subject  on  which  we  have  been  meditat- 
ing, applies  also  to  those  of  my  audience,  who  are  not 
imiiiediately  connected  with  the  College.  It  reminds 
them  that  they  all  have  an  interest  in  it,  an  interest 
of  the  deepest  and  most  serious  kind:  and  it  calls  upon 
them  to  pray,  without  ceasing,  for  a  revival  of  reli- 
gion in  this  Seat  of  learning,  and  in  the  Colleges 
generally  of  our  beloved  country.  Yes,  my  friends, 
while  too  many,  who  ought  to  know  and  to  act  better, 
are  deliberately  lending  themselves  to  the  unhallowed 
work  of  endeavouring  to  corrupt  these  youth :  while 
too  many  are  ministering  to  their  vices;  leading  them 
into  temptation;  taking  the  advantage  of  their  rash- 
ness and  inexperience;  and  giving  them  facilities  for 
involving  their  parents  in  heavy  debts,  as  unjust  in 
themselves,  as  they  are  often  fatally  injurious  to  those 
who  are  thus  aided  in  contracting  them : — while  many, 
I  say,  are  acting  a  part,  in  these  respects,  which  ought 
to  expel  them  from  all  decent  society,  and  consign  them 
to  the  execrated  ranks  of  panders  and  pick-pockets;* 

*  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  some  of  those  who  are  chargeable  with  the  con- 
duct here  referred  to,  have  never  considered  its  real  nature  and  tendency. 
If  tlicy  could  tuke  the  slightest  g-lance  at  the  dreadful,  and  often  irrepaia- 
blc  injury,  >\  liicli  is  frequently  inflicted  on  youth  by  the  means  which  they 
furnisli,  under  the  pretext  of  kindness,  and  accommodation;  and  if  they 
could  imi)urtially  ask  themselves,  whether  they  would  be  willing  tliat  oth- 


41 

let  it  be  our  constant  endeavour,  by  an  edifying  exam- 
ple, and  by  our  daily  prayers,  to  excite  them  to  that 
which  is  good,  and  to  draw  down  blessings  upon  them. 

Many  of  these  youth,  probably,  never  pray  for 
themselves;  never  ask  the  God  that  made  them  to  be 
their  Guide  and  Protector! — Let  us,  my  christian 
friends,  pray  for  them.  Let  us  pray,  without  ceasing, 
that  the  '^  Salt"  of  divine  grace  may  be  cast,  speedily 
and  abundantly,  into  this  Fountain;  that  every  youth 
here  present  may  be  preserved  unhurt  amidst  the 
snares  and  dangers  which  surround  him,  and  inspired 
with  that  wisdom  which  cometh  down  from  above; 
that  the  renewing  and  sanctifying  grace  of  God,  may 
take  possession  of  every  heart  within  these  walls;  that 
a  College  so  early  consecrated  by  the  faith  and  pray- 
ers of  its  pious  Founders,  and  so  happily  adorned  by 
a  long  line  of  illustrious  Presidents,  may  be  made 
more  and  more  to  promote  the  great  purposes  for 
which  it  was  instituted;  and  that,  from  this  day,  a 
Spirit  may  be  poured  out  upon  it,  which  will  render 
it  more  than  ever  distinguished  for  the  happy  union 
of  piety  and  science;  more  than  ever  the  chosen  resort 
of  those  virtuous  and  high-minded  youth,  who  aspire 
to  the  honour  of  being  real  ornaments  to  their  genera- 
tion, and  to  the  Church  of  God. 

ei's  shouM  treat  their  chii-dren  in  the  same  manner; — they  would  surely 
recede  with  horror  from  t'leir  present  course,  if  they  possessed  the  least 
remnant  of  moral  principle. 

F 


43 

Blessed  era!  May  the  God  of  all  grace  speedily 
realize  it  to  our  prayers,  and  our  hopes!  Blessed,  in- 
deed, would  such  a  day  be,  not  merely  to  the  College 
itself,  but  to  our  Town;  to  our  State;  to  our  Nation ! — 
Let  us  all,  then, — I  say  once  more, — unceasingly  and 
importunately  pray  for  it.  Let  no  delay  of  the  bless- 
ing, no  difficulty  which  appears  to  stand  in  the  way  of 
its  vouchsafement,  discourage  our  importunity.  The 
pride,  the  waywardness,  the  frivolity,  the  sensuality 
of  youth,  shall  all  give  way,  when  the  enlightening 
and  sanctifying  Spirit  of  God  shall  be  ^^ poured  out 
from  on  highP  Who  can  tell  but  that  our  eyes  may 
yet  be  blessed  with  this  glorious  sight?  Who  can  tell 
but  that  our  covenant  God,  in  answer  to  the  prayers 
of  his  people,  may  condescend  speedily  to  '^  open  the 
windows  of  heaven,  and  pour  out  a  blessing  upon  uSf 
until  there  shall  not  be  roo?n  ejiough  to  receive  itP^^ 
Amen! 


Itm^ 


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